


She talks when she's high.

by LeannieBananie



Series: A Madness Made for Two [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Recreational Drug Use, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-relationship, Hancock realizes he has feelings for Jo and that she's driving him crazy, but he's being a wuss about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She talks when she's high.

**Author's Note:**

> Drug use, language, and spoilers!
> 
> Just a little something to get out some of my feels for these two, so holler if you see any mistakes.

She woke him up sometime after three a.m., he wasn’t sure exactly when, having passed out from Jet-Mentat-bourbon haze. She came stumbling in and loudly dragged off her gear without a care for his ears, before falling unceremoniously into the bed next to him. She didn’t acknowledge, or perhaps didn’t see his dark eyes open as she rolled over onto her stomach, one arm dangling off the bed and the other straight against her side and quickly fell asleep. In his opinion she looked uncomfortable, but she also looked tired as hell. And pretty. She was always fucking pretty, even covered in ghoul bits and dirt. 

Absently he popped a Mentat into his mouth and watched Jo sleep; finding the steady rise and fall of her shoulders reassuring. She usually got the least sleep out of anyone, because she was too damn busy running around doing everything for everybody to take care of herself. Even now, she was coming back from escorting Curie to Goodneighbor to see Dr. Amari. Just a quick trip she had said; yeah, it had been quick alright, she had gotten there and back in five days. No wonder she was so exhausted. 

He had been traveling with her for months now and for whatever reason she asked him to accompany her a lot. More than that fuck-head Danse and even more than Valentine, who was helping her find her son. Traveling together like that, bunking down in destroyed buildings and busted up garages, sharing Blamco Mac & Cheese and cold Cram, fighting through raiders and feral ghouls and super mutants, it made you get real cozy with your traveling companion. You got to know them, for better or worse. Not that he was saying he knew every little thing about her, but he knew some things. 

A lot of times, buzzed on Med-X and a cheap bottle of wine, she’d talk. Sometimes she’d talk about Nate and Shaun. Other times she’d talk about her travels with Dogmeat, before she’d stumbled upon Preston in Concord. And then there were those rare times, drowsy and curled up in some dead raider’s sleeping bag, she’d talk about him. 

The first time it had happened he thought he’d heard things. Being the more sober one, he was propped up by the door on guard, letting her doze, when she had slurred sleepily, 

“You’ve a nice smile John.” Her browns eyes blinked at him rapidly as she struggled to stay awake, a small smile on her face as she stared at him. It was the first time she’d ever said his name. John. Not Hancock. 

“What?” He’d asked, but it was too late, she’d fallen asleep with that secretive smile on her lips. 

Since then it had happened with increasing regularity, like she couldn’t be helped to keep her mouth shut anymore. A quick compliment here, a glancing touch there, she was slowly driving him crazy. Hancock sighed and let his eyes wander over the soft curve of her hip and the muscular length of her thigh, blatantly ignoring the part of his conscience that said it might be creepy. This is what he had been reduced to, lusting after a woman who loved to torment him with smiles and compliments. And he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. 

Footsteps in corridor roused him, they were brusque, determined, and headed in their direction. He stood quickly and met Ronnie Shaw at the doorway. 

“Is the General up? I saw her arrive.” He swung the door shut and shook his head. 

“No, she’s sleeping.” Ronnie glared at him, narrowing her eyes and making her already stern face looked pinched and slightly sour. 

“It’s important.” Hancock let out a gravelly laugh and stared coldly at the woman. 

“It always is, but it can wait.” She hesitated, eyeing him up briefly before turning and leaving silently. He knew Jo wouldn’t get any rest if he didn’t fend off the people who constantly needed her attention, so he opened the door and quietly pulled a chair into the hallway. Stepping back into the room he grabbed his tin of Mentats and paused, her sleeping form catching his eye again. 

Trying not to overthink his actions, he shrugged out of his jacket and carefully draped it across her sleeping form, smiling possessively when she curled herself up under it. Unable to help himself he brushed his ruined fingers across her temple, tucking loose strands of brightly dyed red hair behind her ear, enjoying the rasp of the shaved sides of her head against his skin. With one last caressing touch along her jaw and he pulled back, feeling idiotic for having just performed one of the most clichéd moves in history. 

Out in the hall he settled into his chair and popped another Mentat –berry flavored this time– and propped one booted heel on his opposite knee. Hancock relaxed and closed his eyes and almost missed her soft murmur, 

“Thank you John.”

“You’re welcome love.” 


End file.
